


The Proposal

by huffellepuff



Category: She Loves Me - Bock/Harnick/Masteroff
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, everyone else is in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7817815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huffellepuff/pseuds/huffellepuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Amalia's overbearing aunt comes to visit, she asks enemy Georg Nowack to pretend to be her fiancé.  But will their fake relationship turn into real love?  (yes, yes it will)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Massive amounts of thanks to Emmett, who helped me work through many, many plot details and told me nice things that encouraged me to write. Also to servethenuts and shadowsinwinter on tumblr for betaing!

Most of the time, Georg struggled to understand Miss Balash. From their first meeting, when she went over his head and sold that darn cigarette box, she was a mystery to him. Every time he thought he had her pegged (usually as a completely insufferable girl), she would do something that surprised him so much he had to re-evaluate, such as the time he overheard her humming his favorite Chopin piece at work, or the kindness she always showed everybody (other than him). He was used to being surprised by her. However, none of these experiences could have prepared him for the shock of seeing her at his door on a Sunday morning. 

“Mr. Nowack, so good to see you!” she exclaimed as soon as Georg opened the door. “May I come in?” 

“Miss Balash?” he said in confusion, as she pushed past him and into his apartment. 

“I’m sorry to drop by so unexpectedly…” she began, perching on the edge of a chair, “but I need to discuss something with you and it is rather urgent.” 

“I see…” He could only stare at the young woman sitting in his living room. 

“I need you to pretend we’re engaged,” she said, looking Georg in the eye. 

“What?!” he blurted, stumbling back and falling onto the sofa. 

“I need you to pretend to be my fiancé.” She had a firm look of determination on her face. 

“Miss Balash, I don’t even know where to begin…” 

“I know it sounds absurd. It _is_ absurd.” She sighed. “But please hear me out. My aunt is going to be in town next week, and she is forever disappointed in my still being unmarried, and she always tries to set me up with terrible men who have never even read a book in their lives.” 

“Why would you ask me, of all people, to do this for you?” he asked, resting his head on his hand. 

“Well…” She looked at her shoes as she spoke. “Because you’re the most believable? Mr. Sipos is older and married anyway, Arpad is far too young, and I’d really rather not go anywhere near there with Mr. Kodaly. And…” 

“And what?” he asked, eyeing her warily. 

“You’realsokindofmytype,” she said in a rush. 

“Your type…?” he asked in a strangled voice, displeased with the little burst of warmth he felt at hearing her say that. 

“If you weren’t you, I mean,” she added lamely. “My aunt saw me a lot growing up, and I do write the occasional letter, and I think that she would believe that I would marry someone like you…” 

“I don’t know if I should feel insulted or flattered right now,” he said, shaking his head. 

“Well it’s no secret that you and I are not each other’s biggest fans,” she said. “But I’m a big enough person to admit that you are intelligent, well read, and, um, not unattractive.” 

Georg stared at her for a moment as he tried to process the situation. 

“Please, Mr. Nowack,” she pleaded. “You’ll even get to hold this over my head for the rest of our time at Maraczek’s, that’s something.” 

“Fine,” he said quickly, somewhat surprised at the words leaving his own mouth. “I don’t know why I’m agreeing, but I am.” 

“Wonderful! Thank you so, so much!” she squeaked in a way that was _almost_ endearing. 

“So, Miss Balash, what do I need to do?” he asked. 

“You can start by calling me Amalia.” She grinned at him, and he knew that he was in trouble. 

\--- 

The decision to ask Mr. Nowack for help was not one that came easily to Amalia. She had agonized over it for days after Aunt Mitzi’s trip plans had been finalized, desperately trying to think of a better plan - she even considered asking Dear Friend, but decided that that would be too much too soon for a man she hadn’t even met yet. Unfortunately, with little over a week until her aunt’s arrival, she was out of options. Even Mr. Nowack was better than the appalling men that her aunt picked out from God knows where, so she had to try. She just didn’t really expect him to say yes. 

But he _did_ say yes and now she was sitting in his living room, formulating a plan with him. Would wonders never cease? 

“Alright, _Amalia_ , what else?” he asked, a somewhat pained expression on his face. “What am I expected to do?” 

“It’s really just going to dinner with me and Aunt Mitzi next Friday, and pretending like you’re in love with me. I know that’s quite the stretch, Mr. Now-” 

“ _Georg_ ,” he reminded her with a smirk. 

“Right,” she said, rolling her eyes. “As I was saying, _Georg_ , I know it’s quite a stretch, but I believe in your acting abilities. After all, you act perfectly kind to customers and your other colleagues on a daily basis.” 

“That is not an act!” he said. “I happen to be a very nice person, to those who deserve it. However, I think I can manage making an exception for you for one night.” 

“Gee, how kind,” she said, glaring at him. 

“Amalia, I don’t have to do this, you know,” he snapped. “I know I can handle it, but I wonder if you can.” 

“You’re right,” she said, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry, I really do appreciate your being willing. I suppose we should at the very least practice being civil.” 

“At least,” he replied, and Amalia could have sworn she saw a hint of a smile on his face. 

“I suppose the logical start would be to get to know each other…” She stopped and thought for a moment. “The basics should be easy enough to remember, I’m an only child, I’m close with my mother, and I’ve never known my father, he died when I was an infant. What about your family?” 

“I don’t really have much of a family,” he replied, shrugging. “I’m also an only child, my parents died when I was 12, I lived with an aunt for a few years, and then the Maraczeks took me in when I started as their delivery boy. I stayed with them for about a year until I was able to get on my feet. So really it’s just the Maraczeks and Ladislav’s family, if anybody.” 

“Oh, Georg, I’m so sorry,” Amalia said softly and, without realizing what she was doing, she placed her hand over his. He seemed alarmed for a moment by the touch, but quickly relaxed and gave her a warm smile - something she had never received from him before, and which made her flush. What was _that_ about? 

“Thank you,” he said, holding her gaze for a few moments before seeming to realize what he was doing. He pulled his hand out from under hers and ran it through his hair, a determinedly unconcerned look forming on his face. “It is what it is, though. I’ve lived over half of my life like this, and I’m alright. Anyway, um, what else should I know about you?” 

\--- 

It had been an hour since Amalia had barged into his apartment, and Georg felt like his world had turned on its axis. Things had started out rocky - and he’s still not sure why he agreed to go along with the scheme in the first place - but in only a moment, it all seemed to change. When she held his hand, it was like a shock had gone through his system. He was overwhelmed both by the sensation of her touching him - something he was trying very hard to ignore - and by the genuine look of caring she gave him. The tone of the conversation had shifted to casual after that, which was also remarkable. She talked about her interests and Georg had been amazed to hear how closely they resembled his. He’d always known she was a very witty and bright woman, but it had always been in a biting context, and now he found himself actually enjoying conversation with her. 

“My favorite book?” Amalia asked incredulously. “How could you ask me that, it’s impossible to answer! I’ll say that right now I’m particularly in love with _Anna Karenina_. Tolstoy has such a way with words.” 

“I have to agree with you there,” Georg replied with a grin. “And _Anna Karenina_ is written so viscerally, it stays with me. It’s like every station platform is Anna’s platform. There are times when I swear I can see her, slowly walking to her death….” 

He trailed off when he noticed the strange look on Amalia’s face. 

“Amalia? Are you alright?” he asked with concern. 

“Oh, yes, um, I’m fine. What you just said sounded very, um, familiar,” she said, still giving him that strange look. 

“Maybe it was déjà vu?” he suggested, surprised by the tension that seemed to enter the room. 

“Yes, that...that must be it,” she said distractedly. “Well, I should probably get going, I’ve got a few more errands to run today.” 

“Okay…” he started, trying to figure out what had caused such a change to come over her. “We should probably discuss what to do about work tomorrow, though.” 

“Oh, that’s a good point,” she said, seeming to startle out of that fog and switch into action mode. “I don’t think we should tell anyone, that would just be inviting trouble. Let’s just try and maintain civility, as we need to keep in practice.” 

“Do you think we should maybe meet after work?” he asked nervously, kicking himself when he realized how disappointed her answer left him. “We’ve covered a lot of ground today, but I think we’ve probably still got some hurdles to get past if we’re going to be convincing. We could go get coffee or something.” 

“Coffee sounds great,” she said, smiling up at him. “I’ll see you in the morning, Georg.” 

“Goodbye, Amalia,” he said as he held the door open for her. 

He stood in the doorway and watched her walk down the hall until she was out of sight. As he reflected on the events of the morning, he realized with a start that not only did he genuinely like Amalia Balash, but he was sad to see her go. This would take some getting used to. 

\--- 

Amalia was being honest when she said she had errands to run, yet she went immediately from Georg’s apartment to her own. His comments about _Anna Karenina_ hadn’t been only familiar, but she was positive she had heard - or, well, seen - those exact words before. She looked through her stack of letters from Dear Friend, found the one she had in mind, and froze. Georg had had the exact same experience as Dear Friend - how very, very odd. 

In an attempt to shake off the nagging feeling of concern that this gave her, she decided to write Dear Friend about the coincidence. After all, he might be happy to know that he wasn’t alone in his experience. It wasn’t until she had finished writing about her conversation with Georg that she realized she would have to give some context in order for Dear Friend to really understand. She had rarely discussed other people in her letters with him, and it might seem strange to bring up another man without explaining, and yet...explaining seemed like an even worse idea. Georg was just a friend, if that, but she couldn’t be sure Dear Friend would see it that way. It was inconsequential in the long run, someday she’d be able to tell him the story and laugh, but it seemed imprudent to do so now. She crumpled up the letter she had started and threw it away. It probably meant nothing, after all. This was just one of the many coincidences in life, and there was no reason to dwell on it. 

Feeling better, she went to go complete her errands. As she walked through the streets of Budapest, she realized that she was looking forward to seeing Georg at work tomorrow. Maybe they really could be friends.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for War and Peace?

When Georg arrived at work, he couldn’t help but feel nervous about how the day might go. Yesterday, against everything he could have expected, he and Amalia had fallen into a very comfortable rapport. What if things were different today? Especially after the strange and abrupt way she had left his apartment. Of course, if things did go back to the usual way, what harm would it actually do him? This whole charade was for Amalia’s benefit, not his. He told himself that it wouldn’t affect him at all if she had decided against it, but he wasn’t sure he believed himself. He actually _liked_ Amalia now. 

“Good morning, Georg,” Ladislav called, startling him. He hadn’t realized that he had been intently staring in the opposite direction, waiting for Amalia to appear. His odd behavior was not lost on his friend. “Is everything alright? 

“Oh, good morning, Ladislav,” Georg replied sheepishly. “Yes, yes, I’m just a little distracted this morning, wondering if Miss Balash will be on time.” 

“Well then that’s nothing new,” he said with a smirk. “Honestly, Georg, if you weren’t so adamant about this letter girl, I’d almost swear…” 

“You’d almost swear what?” Georg asked defensively. He couldn’t possibly be implying what it sounded like he was implying. 

“I’m just saying that you are awfully preoccupied with Miss Balash for a man who claims to have no romantic interest in her,” Ladislav said with a shrug. 

“I do not have feelings for Ama -” He cut himself off as Amalia turned the corner and came into view. “Amalia! Good morning!” 

“Good morning, Georg!” she said, grinning at him. Her appearance caused his chest to feel just a little bit too tight. Probably just a reaction to his initial nerves compounded with his frustration at Ladislav’s absurd comments. 

“Good morning, Amal- Miss Balash,” he said, realizing that Ladislav might find it odd if they were suddenly on a first name basis. 

“You already said that,” she laughed. “But good morning to you too, Mr. Nowack.” 

Georg smiled at her, ignoring the pointed look Ladislav was giving them. 

“And good morning, Mr. Sipos,” Amalia turned her attention to him. 

As they waited for the rest of the staff and Mr. Maraczek to arrive, Georg turned conversation to the work day ahead. He couldn’t believe Ladislav thought he felt romantically about Amalia, when 24 hours ago he couldn’t even stand her. If he noticed their newfound civility, who knows what conclusions he might jump to. 

\--- 

Amalia was pleased by how easy her interactions with Georg were. She had been worried that he may have changed his mind, but if his response to her this morning was a fair indication, he was still willing to go along with her plan. He was acting a little bit strangely, sure, but she could admit that the whole situation warranted a little bit of discomfort. She assumed it was just the expected awkwardness until he pulled her aside after the morning rush. 

“Miss Balash, we need to talk,” he said, placing his hand on her arm to guide her towards the workroom. 

“Oh?” she replied weakly. Panic began to set in and she couldn’t help but think that she was overreacting. If he were to back out, the worst thing that would happen would be another blind date set up by her aunt. That hardly warranted the level of panic she was experiencing. 

“Are you alright?” he asked with concern once they were face to face in the workroom. “You don’t look well.” 

“I’m fine,” she snapped, angry that he could be so… so… kind when he was about to ruin their plan. “What do you want, Mr. Nowack?” 

“Oh, um,” he said nervously, and she immediately felt bad for her response. “I just wanted to talk to you about this morning. I don’t at all blame you for using first names, I did it first and that was the plan, but I think it is drawing unnecessary attention from our coworkers.” 

“Is that all?” Amalia asked as relief washed over her. “I’m sorry for being rude just now, I thought you were going to back out.” 

“Back out? No, I’m still in this crazy plan of yours, for whatever reason,” he said, laughing. “I just think we need to be more careful if we want to keep everyone out of our business.” 

“That’s fair. I _have_ noticed that Ilona has been giving me funny looks all morning… You’re probably right about first names, we shouldn’t be using them at work, but we can’t exactly act as we usually have. And I wouldn’t want to.” She blushed, embarrassed to admit it. 

“I wouldn’t either.” He smiled at her and she felt like her insides did a flip… probably just a continuation of the relief she was feeling. 

“Perhaps we can, if asked, just tell them that we’ve come to a truce? Not cordial enough to be on a first name basis, but at least enough to be kind to one another,” she suggested. 

“That sounds reasonable. Hopefully they’ll be so relieved by the peace, they’ll forget about it,” he said. “We should probably get back out there, though...maybe I’ll stay back for a bit, fill some tubes of face cream, so we don’t leave at the same time.” 

“I’ll talk to you after work, Georg - I mean, Mr. Nowack,” she teased as she walked out of the workroom. 

Upon entering the main floor, she couldn’t help but glance at Ilona, who had her eyebrows raised questioningly. Maybe secret conferences in the workroom weren’t such a good idea either. 

\--- 

At the end of the day, Georg stayed for a few minutes after Amalia had left. They decided that it would be best to meet at her favorite cafe, rather than walk there together. As he was about to leave, Ladislav stopped him. 

“I’ve kept my mouth shut all day, but Georg, what on earth is going on?” he asked. 

“What do you mean?” Georg said, feigning innocence. 

“You and Amalia were -” he began before Georg cut him off. 

“Oh, that.” He shrugged. “We’ve simply called a truce.” 

“A truce?” Ladislav asked, clearly not believing it. 

“Yes, a truce. With things as stressful around here as they’ve been, we decided it was better to be civil than to keep adding to the tension,” he said. 

“If you say so…” he trailed off. “Have a good night, Georg. I’m glad to hear we’ll have a little more calm around here.” 

“Good night, Ladislav,” Georg replied, feeling thankful that the cafe was in the opposite direction of the Sipos home. 

As he walked to the cafe, he couldn’t help but feel excited about his appointment with Amalia. Ever since their conversation yesterday, he had been thinking of additional topics for them to discuss, and he had to work throughout the day to contain himself. Now, away from the prying eyes of their coworkers, they’d be able to talk freely. 

It took him a moment to find Amalia when he first walked in, but he grinned as soon as he saw her. She was sitting at a corner table, her nose buried in a book. It looked like _War and Peace_. 

“Well hello there,” he said as he walked towards her. She startled and almost dropped her book. 

“Oh, Georg! Hi!” She smiled at him. “Sorry, I was sort of immersed, I meant to be watching out for you but I’m at the part where Natasha sees Anatole at the opera and...oh, sorry, have you read this? I would hate to ruin any of the plot for you if you haven’t.” 

He laughed as he sat down at her table. “I’ve read it, a few times honestly, so you have nothing to worry about. Is this your first time?” 

“Oh, no, this is my second. I’m so enamored with the slow building of Natasha and Pierre’s relationship, it’s wonderful to read it again and pick up on little hints that I missed the first time around,” she said, gaining enthusiasm as she spoke. “It’s so beautiful, even though my heart breaks for all of the pain they had to go through to get there.” 

“It’s part of their journey, though. I think if Natasha hadn’t gone through everything with Anatole and Andrei, and Pierre hadn’t gone through everything with Hélène and his personal growth and the capture, they wouldn’t have been quite the people the other needed,” he replied. 

“I agree wholeheartedly, it just hurts to read.” She smiled up at him, causing that tightness in his chest to return. “I believe it’s very true to life, there are things we have to go through in order to become the person we’re meant to be. Whether that means we’re fated to be with a particular person, though, I don’t know. I’d like to think so.” 

“As would I. You put it very well, Amalia,” Georg said. Noticing her empty cup on the table, he stood. “I’m going to get myself a cup of coffee, would you like a refill?” 

\--- 

Amalia waited for Georg to come back with the coffee and tried to pull herself out of the sentimental mindset into which she had fallen. Maybe reading _War and Peace_ before meeting Georg hadn’t been the best idea, as she needed to focus on planning and not on 19th century scandals and romances. She decided they needed to get to business right away - she had thought of several topics they needed to cover before they were ready to meet Aunt Mitzi. 

“I wasn’t sure if you took cream in your coffee, but I made sure they left some room,” Georg said as he returned to the table and sat down. 

“Thank you, I do,” she replied. “Now, we’ve got to get started, we have a _lot_ more ground to cover.” 

“A lot?” he asked, surprised. “We’ve got basic family history and interests, do you expect much else to come up?” 

“Well of course! Aunt Mitzi is somewhat of a busybody, if you couldn’t tell by my need for this whole premise in the first place. She is going to expect us to know each other, and be comfortable around each other,” she said, bracing herself for what she had to say next. “What do you think about pet names? I think they’d help to sell us as a real couple.” 

“Pet names?!” Georg nearly spilled his coffee. “I don’t know, Amalia…” 

“Oh come on, _sweetheart_ , it could be fun,” she said, smirking. They may be friendly now, but she still enjoyed seeing him flustered. “We only have to decide on one.” 

“Fine, but I don’t like sweetheart. I’m sure we can think of something else, _honeybun_ ,” he replied, looking smug. 

“Absolutely not,” she said, crinkling her nose and stifling a giggle. “What about love? It’s straightforward. Love is what we’re trying to sell her on, after all.” 

“No, that’s what the Maraczeks call each other, and I kind of associate it with them now. Any other suggestions, my jewel?” he said, laughing now as he spoke. 

“Please, not that. What about dear or dearest? I’ve always been partial to the names, the idea that you could love someone enough to call them the dearest to your heart…” she trailed off, suddenly thinking of Dear Friend and feeling embarrassed about how she was behaving with another man. Looking back at Georg, she saw an odd expression on his face. 

“Dear works for me,” he said, though he appeared to be lost in thought. 

“Well, now that we have that settled,” Amalia began, resolutely pushing thoughts of Dear Friend out of her mind. “There’s the matter of, um, physicality.” 

“Excuse me?” Georg said, apparently startled out of his thoughts. “ _Physicality_?” 

“I just mean something like hand holding!” she said quickly, realizing how she could be misinterpreted. “I think Aunt Mitzi will find it somewhat odd if we don’t, well, touch each other at some point in the evening. Hand holding seemed like a good way to solve that problem.” 

“You want me to hold your hand?” he asked, raising his eyebrows incredulously. 

“Yes,” she said firmly. Worried that he might find it to be going too far, she decided to step it up rather than back down. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid to.” 

“Afraid to hold your hand? That’s ridiculous,” he said, rolling his eyes. 

“Well, let’s try then,” she said, placing her hand palm up on the table. 

Georg raised his hand and placed it dramatically in Amalia’s. She felt a jolt and their gazes locked for a brief moment, before he suddenly burst into laughter, and she soon followed. As the absurdity of the situation continued to set in, their laughter increased. 

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” she said between chuckles, as they managed to start calming themselves. 

“No, it wasn’t.” He smiled at her and gave her hand a squeeze. If she felt like her heart rate was a little elevated after that, she told herself, it was certainly due to the laughter. 

\--- 

Two hours later, the conversation had slowly moved from further relevant information (Georg now knew Amalia’s middle name, where she grew up, her job history, and enough details on Aunt Mitzi to almost frighten him away from this whole plan) and back to their personal interests. They had begun arguing over _War and Peace_. 

“I don’t think Andrei was good for Natasha,” Amalia said firmly. “His kindness only came in bursts, the rest of the time he was cold.” 

“But he was never cold when he was with Natasha,” Georg said in exasperation. “She brought out the best in him!” 

“That may be, but he certainly did not bring out the best in her,” she countered. “He had so little to offer her. He couldn’t even give her marriage, making the poor girl wait a year and then being completely cold and unforgiving when she made a mistake.” 

“Trying to elope with someone else is a pretty significant mistake!” he said a little too loudly, drawing attention from the nearby tables. 

“Yes, but he had been cooling towards her before that. She was not receiving the love or attention she deserved, and that was his fault.” She pointed her finger in his face triumphantly. “Tell me he deserved her love after the way he had been feeling towards her, the way he had treated her.” 

“I will concede that that is a valid point, but I will still defend Andrei,” he replied with a shrug. He wasn’t even sure if he even cared about his point as much as he simply enjoyed debating with Amalia. 

“Let’s call it a truce for now, since it’s getting late,” she said, looking at her watch. “I should be getting home.” 

“Can I walk you to the bus stop?” he asked. The idea of her walking home by herself this late concerned him. 

“Oh, there’s no need, I’m staying at my mother’s tonight. She actually lives just around the corner.” She smiled warmly at him. “But thank you for the offer.” 

“Well, in that case, I can walk you to her house,” he offered. 

“That sounds lovely, _dear_ ,” she said with a wink before turning to gather her things. 

They walked to Amalia’s mother’s home - which really was just around the corner, it took all of a minute to get there - and said their goodbyes. 

“Should we meet again tomorrow night?” he asked. 

“Oh, I can’t, I’m sorry, I’ve got another appointment tomorrow,” she said, and he hoped she couldn’t read the disappointment that was surely written on his face. 

“Okay, just thought I’d check, in case we needed to figure anything else out, but if you have, um, a date or something, I totally understand…” he trailed off, appalled at himself for asking such an impertinent question. Why did he even care? 

“It’s not a date!” she said quickly, and he was ashamed by how relieved he felt. “I promised mother I would help her set up, as it’s her turn to host the book club.” 

“Well, good night, Amalia,” he said. “I”ll see you at work in the morning.” 

“See you in the morning, Georg.” She gave him a quick smile and turned to walk inside. 

As Georg walked home, he thought about the last few hours. He was enjoying getting to know her more than he ever could have expected to, but he also felt slightly guilty. It almost felt wrong to be so friendly with a woman who wasn’t Dear Friend, particularly when it was a woman who was so _similar_ to Dear Friend. He been trying to ignore this, but it was somewhat alarming. There wasn’t an author, composer, or artists that Amalia had mentioned so far that he hadn’t also discussed with Dear Friend. And their views were so alike! He had the feeling that if he and Amalia had discussed some of those things more in depth, they’d line right up with Dear Friend’s views. It was very odd. 

He decided that he should view their similarities as a good thing. In the future, when he and Dear Friend finally met and, as he hoped would happen, began their life together, it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a friend they could both get along with. Getting to know Amalia now would just expedite the process when he introduced her to Dear Friend.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Amalia was exhausted. She hadn’t meant to stay so long at the cafe with Georg, but she had lost track of time and was now paying for it. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t manage to drag herself out of bed until 7:30, and was consequently a little late for work. She hoped this wouldn’t bring things down with Georg, he was always so harsh to her when she was late and she’d hate for things to go that way again. When she arrived at Maraczek’s, she tried to brace herself for his potential reaction. 

“Good morning, Miss Balash,” he said as soon as she walked in, giving her a smile. 

She couldn’t help but to grin in response. “Good morning, Mr. Nowack.” 

As she walked towards the workroom to drop off her things, she was startled by Ilona rushing in after her. 

“Oh, hello Ilona,” she laughed. “I’m sorry I’m late, has it been terribly busy this morning? You seem to be in hurry.” 

“Not at all, it’s completely dead out there. I’m back here to talk to you,” Ilona replied with a knowing smirk. This couldn’t be good. 

“Well, I’m here, go ahead and talk,” she said, trying to appear casual. 

“I know about you and Georg,” she said simply. 

“How?!” she blurted. So much for staying casual. “I mean, um, what are you talking about?” 

“Nice try, Amalia,” Ilona snorted. “I don’t know how or when it happened, but I know that you’re a couple.” 

“We’re not a couple!” Amalia said, shocked. She had been worried that Ilona knew about their plan, but she thought they were an actual couple? 

“I noticed how differently you were acting around each other yesterday and got suspicious, but then after work I saw you in that cafe,” she explained. Amalia made a noise of protest, but Ilona continued. “Don’t try to deny it. You were cozied up at the same table, and he was _holding your hand_.” 

“Ilona, no, you’ve got it wrong,” she said with a laugh, thrilled to hear that they had been convincing. As much as she had hoped to keep the plan a secret, she couldn’t let Ilona go on thinking they were actually in a relationship. “This is somewhat embarrassing to admit, but it’s all an act.” 

“An act?” she asked, eyebrow raised in disbelief. 

“Yes, an act,” Amalia began. “My very intrusive aunt is visiting and in order to prevent her trying to set me up with a stranger, I asked Georg to pretend to be my fiancé. He said yes, and we’re just...practicing, though apparently we’ve managed to convince you.” 

“That’s too crazy to be a lie,” Ilona said, shaking her head. “But it still seems fishy to me. You’ve always hated each other, and now, well, you were _very_ convincing…” 

“Honestly, it’s as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. I asked him out of desperation, but once we got to talking...it turns out he’s not quite as terrible as I had always made him out to be,” She shrugged, downplaying the strength of connection she had begun to feel with him. 

“I’m glad to hear you’re recognizing that. So,” she began, smiling in an incredibly disconcerting manner. “Have you two kissed yet?” 

“How could you even ask that?! Of course not! And what do you mean _yet_?” Amalia would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it briefly, but she had convinced herself it was unnecessary. 

“It’s not that crazy of a thought!” she said, laughing. “Most people engaged in a romantic relationship kiss at some point. If your aunt is as much as a busybody as you say, she might notice if you never do more than hold your fiancé’s hand.” 

“We’ll...just tell her that we prefer being discreet…” she trailed off, realizing that her aunt would never let that suffice. If she happened to get that idea in her head, she wouldn’t let it go. “Oh no. You may be right, Ilona. But how am I supposed to ask Georg to _kiss_ me?” 

“From my experience, men don’t tend to mind.” 

“Ilona! I’m not going to ask him to _actually_ kiss me, plus Georg isn’t like that,” she said reprovingly. 

“You’re just going to ask him to fake kiss you by actually putting his lips on yours?” Ilona asked. Apparently she enjoyed making her uncomfortable. 

Amalia felt herself blushing. This wasn’t a good sign, if she wasn’t even comfortable _talking_ about it with Ilona, how could she possibly handle it with Georg? 

“I’ll tell you what, Amalia, I will ask him for you,” she stated, as if it was the most reasonable offer in the world. 

“But then he’ll know you know! And we were really trying to keep this under wraps.” 

“Well you’ve done a bang up job so far. Trust me, Amalia, how about you just let him know you had to tell me, and I’ll do the rest,” she said as she headed for the workroom door. 

\--- 

It was a slow morning in the shop and Georg was thankful that Mr. Maraczek wasn’t in today, as the slower it was, the more opportunity he had to complain. Instead, Georg kept himself busy with side projects, but peacefully so. He found himself glancing frequently towards the workroom after Amalia had entered it, waiting for her to emerge. When she finally did, he walked over to her, grinning until he noted the pained look on her face. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked cautiously. 

“Well, yes, technically,” she began, keeping her head bowed and avoiding eye contact. “Ilona knows about our plan.” 

“She what?! No one was supposed to know, we agreed that’d be easier!” he said in harsh whisper. Ilona of all people would never let them live this down. 

“I know, I know! But she guessed it. Well, she didn’t guess that exactly, she guessed that we were _actually_ in a relationship,” she replied. “I figured telling her the truth would be preferable. She saw us at the cafe yesterday.” 

“ _Oh_ , wow,” he said. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t let her go on thinking _that_. I guess that would be worse.” 

“Exactly! Nothing here to worry about,” she said, smiling a little too brightly. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

“ _Yes_ ,” she said, nodding her head once for emphasis. “I’m going to go do my job now.” 

He felt like he was missing something, but she was adamant enough that he had little choice but to go along with her. Fortunately, they had no plans today, so she would have some time to work out whatever was going on. 

\--- 

Amalia could have killed Ilona. Georg seemed to accept her response for the most part, though the occasional kind yet concerned glances he would give her showed that he wasn’t completely buying it. And the worst thing about said glances is that it seemed like every time he looked at her, she was already looking at him. She was trying to figure out if Ilona had told him yet, but also she just found herself...distracted by him. Her gaze drifted to his lips far more than she was comfortable with, and thoughts of kissing him filled her head. As much as she told herself that it was to be expected given what was coming, the fact was that she was kind of looking forward to it. 

For the millionth time that day, she was watching him as he helped a customer, and he looked up at her. In her haste to turn away, she fumbled the nail polishes she was sorting, barely catching one before it hit the floor. She kept her back turned to him as he finished and the customer left the store. 

“I think it’s about time for a break,” Ilona said loudly, drawing Amalia’s attention. “Mr. Sipos, Mr. Kodaly, it’s time for my break, as well as Georg and Amalia’s.” 

Amalia almost dropped the nail polish again. Did Ilona really mean to get them to practice _now_? 

“All three of you?” Mr. Sipos asked. “And it’s almost closing.” 

“It’s a slow day,” Ilona shrugged. “Come on now, you two.” 

Georg shot Amalia a confused look, but followed Ilona into the back. Amalia followed, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. 

“Georg,” Ilona began once they were all back in the work room. “You need to kiss Amalia.” 

“What?!” Georg nearly shouted, automatically taking a step away from Amalia. 

“This isn’t what I meant, Ilona,” Amalia groaned. 

“What you meant?” Georg asked her in a strained voice. 

“Oh, calm down, both of you,” Ilona said, as if she hadn’t introduced the subject in the most dramatic way possible. “Georg, when I heard about the little plan of yours, I mentioned to Amalia that it might seem odd if she never kissed her fiancé.” 

Georg appeared to be at a loss for words and merely gaped at the two women. 

“Georg, I’m sorry. If it’s going too far, well, we’ll have to hope Aunt Mitzi doesn’t notice. It isn’t fair to make you…” she trailed off, unable to even say the words to him. 

“No,” Georg said softly, and Amalia felt like her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She was _disappointed_. 

“Okay, I understand,” Amalia said, trying to gain control of her ridiculous emotional response. “We’ll just keep things as they are and hope for the best.” 

“No,” he said again, this time more firmly. He swallowed hard and continued. “As in no it’s not going too far. It makes sense.” 

“Perfect!” Ilona said brightly, grinning at the both of them. “Well, there is no time like the present! You should both get to practicing.” 

“Practicing?” he asked weakly. 

“Well, stranger than not kissing her fiancé would be kissing him as if it were the first time. And with a coworker,” Ilona shrugged. 

Amalia smiled meekly at Georg, flushed with nerves and anticipation. “Should we go ahead and bite the bullet? Get it over with?” 

“Okay, but…” he glanced at Ilona. “Is it really necessary to have an audience?” 

“Absolutely!” Ilona interjected. “You need someone to determine if you’re convincing, and you’ll have an audience when it really counts. Now, Georg, put your hands on her hips and kiss the girl.” 

“Amalia? Is that alright?” he asked, and she could only bring herself to nod in response. 

Georg tentatively placed his hands on her hips, and Amalia instinctively felt herself draw nearer to him. Her heart was racing, and his hesitation was killing her. Before she knew what she was doing, she had hold of his shirtfront, and she pulled him towards her until their lips met. She was kissing Georg Nowack. Not only was she kissing him, but she _liked_ kissing him. She had kind of hoped her accidental daydreams from earlier would prove to be wrong, but instead they were only amplified. 

What she hadn’t at all thought about was that Georg might like kissing _her_ , which he certainly seemed to, if his response was any indication. His hands slid from her hips to her back until his arms were wrapped around her, drawing her closer, causing her to feel like her whole body was alight. It wasn’t until they separated to take a breath that she realized they had definitely gone too far after all. She placed her hand flat on his chest, pushing slightly as she stepped back. Breathing heavily, they looked at each other. He looked as shocked as she felt. 

“Well,” Ilona said, startling them. Amalia had forgotten she was even there. “I think you’re set, that definitely did not look like a kiss between two platonic coworkers.” 

“Oh, um,” Amalia started, unable to figure out how to continue. 

“I’ll just leave the two of you alone, now that you’ve got my opinion,” she said, smiling as if what had just happened was an everyday occurrence and walking out of the workroom door. 

“So…” Georg said as he stared at his shoes. 

“I think Ilona is right,” Amalia said. “We seem to have that part covered. Maybe, um, in the future we should try for a more, um, publicly appropriate kiss.” 

“Amalia, I’m so-” he began, before Amalia cut him off. 

“It’s fine!” she said, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered she was. “I’m only saying that now that we have _that_ down, it may be easier to go for the occasional peck on the lips. Short, sweet, convincing.” 

She leaned towards him once more, this time keeping her hands to herself, and placed a quick kiss on his lips before stepping back. 

“See?” she asked. “That will be easier to keep up.” 

“Alright. I know you’re busy tonight but, uh, do we have any more practice plans before the dinner on Friday? And by practice I mean everything, not just this,” he said, rushing to add the last comment. 

“Nothing planned,” she said. “I think we probably only need one more meeting before the dinner, just to confirm our game plan.” 

“Oh, okay. Just let me know when you’ve decided?” he said, turning around and going back onto the floor. 

With only an hour left of work, it seemed plausible that she could manage to keep herself busy in the workroom and away from Georg, so she decided to start filling some face creams. She sat down in front of the empty tubes and jars, hid her still burning face in her hands, and sighed. She had to admit that she might just be in over her head. 

\--- 

Hoping to distract himself, Georg had gone to see a film after work, but the romance plot did little to help the situation. He left the movie feeling even more conflicted than before. A year ago, he would read or watch stories of lovers and yearn to experience that. Over the past several months, he finally felt like he was close - with each letter he received from Dear Friend, he fell more in love. He would daydream about their life together, able to imagine every little detail...except, of course, her face. But over the course of just a few days, Amalia’s face started to fill those dreams. 

As he walked home from the cinema, he told himself that her sudden appearance in those thoughts didn’t mean anything. It seemed quite possible that he had unconsciously begun conflating Amalia and Dear Friend into one person - he logically knew that they were two different people, but with all of their similarities and the forced nature of this whole romantic charade she had come up with, it made sense for the lines to be a little blurred. That had to be why he responded to the kiss as, well, enthusiastically as he did. Of course, knowing _why_ it was all happening didn’t make him feel any less uncomfortable with it. 

For the hundredth time since beginning this scheme, he wondered why he had agreed to it. He didn’t even _like_ her at the time, so what on earth had possessed him to agree with her absurd request? Something about Amalia Balash made him lose all sense of propriety and rationality. From their first meeting, he couldn’t seem to act reasonably around her. This didn’t bother him as much when he could write her off as simply an insufferable girl, but now...he wasn’t sure what to think. He just knew that he needed to learn to be more careful around her. 

\--- 

Since leaving work that evening, Amalia had done a remarkable job of not thinking about the day’s events. She had gone to her mother’s house, helped her get ready for the book club, discussed literature, and started clean up, all without dwelling on certain subjects. Honestly, she was slightly impressed with herself for keeping her emotions so firmly in check. That is, until her mother finished her goodbyes with the last guest and turned to face her. 

“Alright, Amalia, what’s going on?” she asked, using the simultaneously concerned and demanding voice that seems to come only with motherhood. 

“What do you mean, mother?” Amalia asked cautiously. 

“I mean, you’ve been acting so unlike yourself all evening. Unfailingly polite. It’s disconcerting,” she said. 

“Because I’m usually so rude?” she said, shocked by her mother’s words. 

“Of course not,” she said, rolling her eyes at her daughter.. “But usually when you join us to discuss books, you’re _quite_ opinionated. Mrs. Blahynkova insulted Dickens’ writing and you only ‘respectfully disagreed,’ whereas you would usually be on your feet detailing every reason her argument was flawed.” 

“Oh, well,” she began, failing to think of a believable excuse, “it was just a long day at work.” 

“Is that Mr. Nowack causing you problems again?” Her mother said his name with such distaste that Amalia felt compelled to defend him. 

“No, Georg has been fine,” she said. As easy (and technically accurate) of an excuse as it would have been, it wasn’t fair to Georg to let her mother continue thinking he was so terrible. 

Her mother gave her an alarmed look and Amalia realized her mistake. 

“ _Georg_?” 

“Um,” Amalia said, knowing she was caught. She was an unconvincing liar most of the time, and against her mother she would never stand a chance. “So. Remember how I’m supposed to have dinner with Aunt Mitzi this weekend?” 

“Yes, but don’t change the subject, Amalia,” her mother said sternly. 

“I’m not changing it, honestly. Aunt Mitzi, as you know, always tries to set me up with awful men. In order to prevent that, I may have told her I have a fiancé. And then I may have asked Mr. Nowack to pretend to _be_ that fiancé,” she said to her shoes, unable to bring herself to look at her mother. “So, for the last few days, Mr. Nowack - Georg - and I have been getting to know each other a little more.” 

“But why would you ask him of all people?” her mother asked, looking both confused and concerned. 

“It seemed like a good idea at the time? And really, mother, I believe I was wrong about him. He has been the perfect gentleman.” Except perhaps that evening in the workroom, but she wasn’t exactly being a proper young lady herself. 

“I don’t like it,” she said. “He’s been cruel to you for so long, and now this sudden change? It seems highly suspicious to me.” 

“I can’t really explain it,” Amalia sighed. She wished she could tell her mother all that was on her mind, how she felt when Georg kissed her and how conflicted that made her feel, but if she couldn’t even get through explaining this part, she had no hope of the rest. “Anyway, mother, I should go home.” 

“My sweet daughter,” she said, pulling her into a hug. “Be careful.” 

“I am,” she replied, though she wasn’t actually sure of that. “Good night, mother.” 

“Good night, Amalia,” she said, squeezing her once more before before letting go. 

As Amalia walked home, she tried to make sense of the situation. Honestly, though, nothing about Georg had ever made sense to her. No one else could get under her skin the way he could, whether it was through hate, like, or...well, attraction. It was rather infuriating, frankly, because she didn’t like him _that_ way, she really didn’t. Her responses to him have always just been sort of...extreme. It was something she would have to keep in mind as they proceeded, but nothing to really worry about. If they just stuck to what she had told him, only going as far as a few modest kisses in front of her aunt, they should be fine.


	4. Chapter 4

If Georg had thought Amalia’s intrusion into his daydreams had been bad, it was nothing compared to her presence in his actual dreams. He had dreamed that things had gone differently on her first day at Maraczek’s, that instead of clashing they had connected, and that on Friday he was going to meet her aunt as her _real_ fiancé, not just her fake one. The worst part of the dream was that it was incredibly pleasant, that he awoke in a happy daze until reality slowly set in. This was not superimposing Amalia onto Dear Friend, this was just Amalia. This was not good. 

When he arrived at work, he decided he would have to do his best to stay away from her. He was a man of his word, he wasn’t going to back out of the plan, but he definitely needed to keep some boundaries. And the less time he spent with her, the better. Thankfully, he had a little more time to prepare himself since, as usual, she was running late. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” she said as she burst through the door, moments before opening. 

At the sight of her running by, Georg felt a warmth inside that quickly led to frustration. That was not the response he should be having to a friend who was late for work, it was utterly ridiculous. As she walked out of the workroom, belongings stowed and ready for opening, he took a deep breath. He could keep his boundaries with her. He had to. 

“Good morning, Mr. Nowack,” she said with a timid smile as she approached him. 

“Good morning,” he said, turning away from her and heading to open the shop doors. As he looked back at his coworkers to make sure everyone was ready, he saw Amalia looking wounded, but proceeded to let the customers in. He did have a job to do, after all. 

“Good day madame, may I help you?” he asked as the first customer walked in, determinedly ignoring Amalia behind him. 

\--- 

Amalia was angry. All morning, Georg had been cold to her. At first, she had felt confused and hurt, but now? She was mad. She couldn’t believe that she had trusted him, that she had thought herself wrong about him, that she had told her mother he was a good man, that she had opened up to him, that she had genuinely believed she liked him...only for him to turn around and ignore her. It had been a fairly busy morning, but even during the lulls he only responded to her with monosyllabic answers before walking away. It was unacceptable. 

Around 1pm, the shop had finally emptied of customers. She knew this would be her best chance to talk to Georg and give him a piece of her mind. As if he knew what was coming, he looked slightly panicked as she approached. 

“Mr. Nowack, a word,” she said in a growl, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the workroom. 

“Miss Balash!” he exclaimed, yanking his hand out of hers. “What on earth are you doing?” 

“What am _I_ doing?” she asked incredulously. “You’ve been rude to me all morning, and you ask what _I’m_ doing?” 

“I have not been _rude_ , I’ve been _working_ ,” he said. 

“Georg, working does not entail turning your back every time your coworker - your _friend_ \- tries to talk to you,” she said. 

“It - I - You,” he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Listen, Amalia, I can’t do this right now.” 

“There isn’t a customer in sight, this is the perfect time to do this. You can’t just keep avoiding me. We do work in the same shop, you know, as much as you tried to prevent that from happening,” she snapped. 

“I did _not_ try to prevent you from working here! I can’t believe you’re still trying to hold that against me. I was told we weren’t hiring, I was just doing my job.” 

“There you go again, rudeness in the name of work,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you were _just doing your job_ , you wouldn’t have held it against me for months that I _did_ get hired!” 

“Well, you sure as hell didn’t make it easy on me once you got the job! If I’m being rude now you were downright cruel then.” He crossed his arms and looked at her as if he had made a brilliant point. 

“Cruel? I only returned what I got!” she said, taking a step towards him. 

“Amalia!” he said, putting both hands out between them to stop her. “I don’t think we should continue this.” 

“Afraid to lose a fight?” she said with a smirk. 

“I don’t mean the fight, though we should stop that as well. I mean this whole thing you’ve asked me to do…” For a brief moment, she thought he looked scared. 

“This thing that you agreed to, you mean?” 

“Yes, I agreed, though God knows why. But I didn’t know then what, precisely, I was agreeing to. You’ve asked too much of me!” 

“Too much? What do you mean, too much?” She couldn’t believe he was acting like some wronged party in this. 

“I mean, yesterday…” he said, biting his lip. 

“Yesterday when I offered you the chance to back out?” she asked. 

“Well, how was I supposed to say no, with you bringing Ilona in to pressure me further?” he snapped. 

“I didn’t _plan_ on that! How could you think I wanted that?” 

“Well, it happened. And it’s not just the kiss,” he said, closing his eyes. “I just...can’t handle spending all of this time with you.” 

His words hit her like a punch in the gut. 

“Well, Mr. Nowack,” she said, hoping he couldn’t hear that she was on the verge of tears. “I couldn’t possibly make you do something so inherently terrible as spend time with me. Goodbye.” 

She turned away from him and walked out of the workroom, desperately trying to compose herself before someone noticed her tears. The nerve of that man, acting so kind to her for two days - was that really only _two days_? - and then tearing her down so cruelly. How could she ever have thought he was different? At least, she told herself, she had been right about him being a passable actor. He just couldn’t keep the act up long enough. 

\--- 

Georg watched Amalia run out of the room, unable to believe the words that had just come out of his mouth. He was horrified both by what he had accidentally revealed and by how she had misunderstood it. Why did everything have to be so complicated when it came to her? Around other people he was usually even tempered and at least somewhat articulate, but she always seemed to bring out the worst in him. 

He shouldn’t have treated her the way he did this morning. What he had done was for his own benefit, minimal as it was, and he hadn’t considered how it might affect her. It would have been better just to tell her that he needed some space to think, rather than shut her out without a word. Even when they’d hated each other, he had never done that, it was no wonder she had gotten upset with him. 

He went back to the sales floor intending to apologize, but one look at Amalia told him she wasn’t ready to hear it. He wasn’t sure if he had ever received such a nasty glare from her, which was saying something. It was probably best to wait on the apology. That way he’d have time to plan out what to say, as he couldn’t very well give her the whole truth. _“Gee, Amalia, I’m sorry I acted so poorly, it’s just that I can’t seem to get you out of my head, particularly since we kissed.”_ Because that would go over well. 

He spent the rest of the day trying to work around her, which involved a tricky balance of avoiding her while not ignoring her. The fact that she appeared to have lost all interest in talking to him made this a little bit easier, of course. Fortunately, he was able to stay busy as business picked back up, and by closing time he had an apology plan in mind. It was far from foolproof, but he had to try something. 

\--- 

Amalia was still quite upset by the time she left Maraczek’s that evening. She was angry at him for being so cruel, but even angrier about having brought this on herself. She shouldn’t have asked him and she certainly shouldn’t have fallen for his act. Had it all been an elaborate scheme? Build her up, charm her, only to tear her back down? Even before all of this, she never would have thought him capable of such extremes, but now she didn’t know what to think. The good she thought she had seen in him had seemed so genuine. He had felt like a true kindred spirit, and losing that friendship - or the idea of it, at least - was painful. 

Deciding that she needed a pick-me-up, she headed to her favorite bookstore. Maybe, in the pages of a book, she would find the peace so absent from her own mind. 

\--- 

After work, Georg went straight to putting his apology plan in motion. As much as he worried that she would still be angry if he approached her tonight, he couldn’t let her believe that he actually thought such terrible things about her. Her reaction would be what it would be, but at least she’d know. 

As he walked, he tried to rehearse a speech in his head, but kept fumbling. If he couldn’t even think it clearly, how was he supposed to say it? He decided to write it down first, so that even if she refused to listen, she might be willing to read it. He entered Lindner’s Ice Cream Shop and sat down, pulling out the bit of stationery he always kept on hand. 

“Excuse me, sir, can I help you?” a vaguely familiar voice asked him. He looked up, and was alarmed to see a woman that looked remarkably like Amalia. Somewhat older, but practically a doppelgänger. 

“I’m sorry!” he blurted, as if she actually _was_ Amalia. “I mean, um, I’m going to order a pint of ice cream, I just need to write something down first.” 

“And what flavor would you like?” she asked, smiling. 

“Actually, I’m not sure which flavor she prefers…” he said, trying to remember if she had ever given any hints. “But let’s go with vanilla. To go, please.’ 

“A good choice,” she said. “Is this a gift for a lady friend?” 

“Um, yes,” he said, since it _technically_ described the situation. Somewhat. 

“Seems like a lucky girl, having a handsome fellow like you to bring her ice cream,” the woman said. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, this is more of an apology gift….” he said. 

“Lovers spat?” she asked, looking at him sympathetically. 

“Something like that….” he mumbled. 

“Well, I hope it works out for you. Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll ring that up for you.” 

“Thank you,” he said, returning to his letter. He appreciated her polite conversation, but needed to focus on the task at hand. 

      _ ~~Dear Amalia,~~_

      _ ~~Dear Miss Balash,~~_

      _Miss Balash,_

      _I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be, but I beg you to hear me out. I am so sorry if I hurt you - you must believe that that was not my intention. Getting to know you over the last few days has been a true pleasure, you are a ~~wonderful~~ ~~delightful~~ ~~infuriating~~ very enjoyable person to spend time with. It’s just that I may like you too much _

Georg set his pen down and buried his face in his hands. He had really thought he’d be able to come up with some way to explain himself, but it wasn’t going terribly well so far. Of course, it didn’t help that he wasn’t exactly sure _what_ he was feeling. Except that he needed coffee. Coffee would help. As he walked to the counter, he heard the door open behind him. 

“Oh, _no_ ,” Amalia said, obvious disgust in her voice. 

\--- 

All Amalia wanted was to say hi to her mother and show her the book she had bought. But no, Georg had to be there, ready to continue ruining her day. Of course he did. 

“Amalia!” he said, looking panicked. “What - what - um, what are you doing here?” 

“What do you think, Mr. Nowack?” she asked, rolling her eyes and turning away from him. 

“Amalia, please, I need to speak with you,” he said, placing his hand on her shoulder. 

His touch surprised her and, without meaning to, she stopped. Bracing herself, she turned to face him, causing his hand to fall from her shoulder. 

“I am so sorry for how I acted today, Amalia, I truly hadn’t meant to hurt you,” he said. He seemed sincere, but she couldn’t let herself trust him. Even if he hadn’t _intended_ to hurt her, he had still made his opinion of her very clear. 

“Well, you did. But don’t worry, I won’t be letting that happen again,” she said, hoping that the latter half was true. 

“The way I acted towards you was wrong, but you were wrong too-” he said, wincing as he realized what he said. 

“Some apology!” 

“No, no, I don’t mean you were wrong, I mean…” He paused, biting his lip. “I mean that I like you very much, Amalia.” 

“You like me?” What on earth was that supposed to mean? 

“I do,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “And I’m an idiot who can’t handle emotions, apparently, so this whole liking you thing was strange enough, but after we kissed it all just seemed overwhelming, too much was changing too fast, so I just kind of...shut you out when I probably should have been talking to you. At least to let you know I needed some time to think and...adjust. I hope you can forgive me, but more than that I just need you to know that there is nothing terrible about spending time with you.” 

She stared at him, trying to detect any hint of dishonesty on his face, but saw only desperation. Maybe he really _did_ mean it. 

“And why should I believe that?” she asked, trying one more line of defense. 

“Because I have no reason to lie. I’ve been sitting here for the last half hour trying to write out an apology, to figure out the right words, and failing miserably at it, just ask the server,” he said, pointing to a small stack of stationery on the table - the same stationery that Dear Friend used, she thought fleetingly, before the other part of his sentence sunk in. The server? 

She looked past Georg and saw her mother, eyebrows raised. 

\--- 

“Why would I go to all of that effort if I didn’t mean it?” he finished, before noticing that her attention seemed to have gone somewhere else. 

“Oh, hello mother!” she said to someone behind him, shooting him a panicked glance. 

“Mother?!” he whispered. He really should have known. 

“Hello, darling,” Mrs. Balash said to her daughter. “And you, sir, must be the Mr. Nowack I’ve heard so much about.” 

Georg turned around and tried to give her a polite smile, though he suspected it was more of a grimace. He could only imagine the things she had heard about him. 

“That’s me,” he said, chuckling. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Balash.” 

“Likewise,” she said with a smirk. “Now, how about I ring up that ice cream you were going to get for the young lady, who I can only assume is my daughter.” 

“Ice cream?” Amalia asked, turning to him in confusion. 

“It was supposed to be a peace offering, which you are still welcome to if you’d like,” he said. 

“Yes, please.” She smiled at him for the first time since that morning, and he couldn’t help but grin back. 

“Well, then yes, Mrs. Balash, a pint of vanilla ice cream to go,” he said, not quite making eye contact with Amalia’s mother. “Oh! Unless you’d like a different flavor, Am- um, Miss Balash?” 

“Vanilla is perfect, thank you,” she said. 

Amalia made what seemed to be somewhat forced small talk with her mother while they finished their transaction. He didn’t know what to think of what was happening. She was accepting the gift, but he couldn’t tell if she had actually accepted the apology. As Mrs. Balash handed them the carton of ice cream, he wasn’t sure how to proceed. 

“Mr. Nowack,” Amalia began, “maybe we should go find somewhere to chat?” 

“Okay,” he said, relief and nervousness somehow both flooding him at the idea. 

“Why don’t you head out, and I’ll meet you in a moment?” 

“Sounds reasonable. Good night, Mrs. Balash, it was very nice to meet you.” He grabbed his papers from the table and went outside to wait for Amalia. 

As he stood outside, he could see the two of them having a rapid-fire conversation, and he kicked himself once again for not realizing who she had been. Had he been thinking, there was no way he would have said all of that in front of her _mother_. He wouldn’t blame Amalia if she was furious with him, though she hadn’t seemed it. He braced himself as he saw her exiting the ice cream shop. 

“I grabbed two spoons!” she said, smiling as she left. 

“Two?” he asked. 

“Well, I figured we could share it. You take half, I’ll take half. Consider it a reciprocated peace offering,” she said as she began walking. “I accept your apology, Georg, and I want to offer my own. Knowing the whole picture, I...I may have overreacted, slightly.” 

“Oh, no, Amalia, you didn’t overreact. I was being awful,” he said. “You were just being...understandably rude.” 

“Let’s call it a truce then,” she said with a laugh. “For real, this time.” 

“I would love that,” he said, offering her a hand. 

Instead of using her opposite hand to shake his, as intended, she placed her nearest hand in his and squeezed. 

“Now, Georg,” she said, looking nervous. “Where do we go from here?” 

“Wh-what do you mean?” he asked. She couldn’t possibly mean… 

“Are you still able to help me, or do you need an out? Because if you do, this is it. I’ve forgiven you once for some...miscommunications, I suppose, so now I’m being clear.” 

“Amalia…” He hesitated, and a look of understanding and sadness flashed across her face. He had already hurt her today, he couldn’t handle doing it again, no matter how difficult this might be for him. “I am definitely still able to help you.” 

She grinned at him, giving his hand another squeeze. “Thank you, Georg.” 

“So, _dearest_ ,” he said as they walked, swinging their hands together between them. “Where should go to eat our ice cream?” 

Who needed self preservation anyway?


	5. Chapter 5

Despite the late hour at which she had gotten home last night, Amalia woke up early, feeling content. Though getting along with Georg was technically a new thing and should have felt novel, instead it just felt right. She had been miserable yesterday when it seemed like things had shifted back to the way it used to be, and her relief now was immense. 

Things had gone far better than she could have anticipated - she and Georg made up, solidified a plan for the next two days (leaving no more room for miscommunications), had some wonderful conversations, _and_ her mother even approved. Granted, she would have preferred her mother not have heard Georg’s whole apology - particularly the kiss part - but it seemed to have won over both Balash ladies in the room. After he had walked outside, she gave their fake relationship her blessing, as well as hinting that Amalia may want to consider making it real - which she chose to ignore. The point, though, was that things were very good right now. 

The plan for the day was to go through work as usual - well, in a friendly and calm manner, which was hopefully their _new_ usual - and go for a practice date that evening. The practice date would allow them the opportunity to completely give into the ruse and work out any difficulties. Due to this, she took more care with her appearance than she would have on a typical day. After all, if they were going all in, she needed to prepare as if it were real. 

\--- 

Last night, Georg had come to a decision about the whole Amalia situation: yes, he was feeling _something _for her, but no, it didn’t matter. He liked her (as a friend) and he could admit that he was attracted to her - and really, always had been. Those factors plus acting as if they were in a relationship? It’d stir some kind of feelings up in anybody. But they weren’t _real_ romantic feelings, they were as artificial as their engagement and would end just as soon. In a couple of days, it would all be over, and they could just be friends. In the meantime, though, there was no reason not to enjoy his time with Amalia. __

And enjoy it he did. They had stayed out far later than he was usually comfortable with, walking hand in hand until they stumbled onto a little late night diner. The time seemed to fly by, until they realized how deliriously tired (yet still happy) they were. And now, tonight, they were planning a full practice run - they would go to a charming cafe he had been eyeing for months, the Cafe Imperial, and act entirely as the betrothed couple they were pretending to be. Georg was looking forward to it, and there may have been an extra bounce to his step as he walked to work. 

When he arrived at Maraczek’s, he saw Ladislav already waiting by the door. 

“Good morning, Ladislav!” he said as he approached. “What a beautiful autumn morning, wouldn’t you say?” 

“If you say so,” Ladislav said, looking at the grey sky above and chuckling. “What’s got you in such a chipper mood this morning?” 

Georg debated for a moment on whether to share about things with Amalia. They had agreed not to tell, but Ilona already knew, and Ladislav surely wouldn’t tell anyone else... 

“Well, actually...I’ve got a date tonight,” he said. “A date with Miss Balash.” 

“It’s about time!” he replied, laughing. 

“No, Ladislav, not like that. It’s not a real date,” he said. He probably could have introduced the topic a little more clearly. 

“What do you mean, not a real date?” he asked, giving him a wary look. 

“Tomorrow night, I’m going to pretend to be Amalia’s fiancé and have dinner with her and her aunt. Apparently her aunt is more than a little pushy when it comes to setting her up with men, so she wanted to head her off at the pass, so to speak. Enter the fake fiancé,” Georg said, motioning towards himself. 

“But if that’s tomorrow, why are you going on a fake date tonight?” Ladislav asked 

“Tonight’s for practice, so we can be totally prepared tomorrow,” he said. 

“That sounds like an awful lot of work for a girl you have no feelings for…” he said, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Well, she’s my friend,” he said, before realizing that that did not fully explain things. “I mean, I still can’t say why I ever agreed to this in the first place, _but_ in the days since I have grown to like her.” 

“I see.” 

“It’s nothing like you were implying, though,” he said, wondering how his friend could pack so much judgment in only two words. 

Ladislav fixed him with a long look before shaking his head and laughing. 

“You’re insane, Georg, but I wish you luck,” he said. “Incidentally, does Miss Ritter happen to know about this plan?” 

“Um, yes,” Georg said, hoping to avoid discussing just how much knowledge Ilona had. “Why?” 

“Because just yesterday she tried to bet me a not insignificant amount of money that you and Amalia would be engaged before the month was out,” Ladislav said, before looking past Georg and waving to someone. “Good morning!” 

\--- 

“Good morning, Mr. Sipos, Mr. Nowack!” Amalia said as she neared them. 

Georg spun around, looking slightly panicked. 

“Good morning, I -” He paused, and Amalia thought she saw a slight blush forming on his cheeks. “Wow, you look...very lovely today, Miss Balash.” 

“Thank you,” she said, gratified that her efforts this morning had paid off. Not that she necessarily _needed_ to impress Georg, it was just...nice to be appreciated. 

As their coworkers began to arrive, the usual morning chatter helped Amalia from becoming too focused on conversation with Georg. They were still attempting some level of normalcy between them at work, though the smirk shared by Ilona and Mr. Sipos definitely suggested that they weren’t being quite as discreet as intended. One of those people was not supposed to know. 

After opening, Amalia found herself working near enough to Georg that it wouldn’t be suspicious to pull him aside. 

“Georg,” she said quietly, “does Mr. Sipos happen to know about our arrangement?” 

“Well…” he said, running a hand through his hair - something Amalia had begun to recognize as a surefire sign that he was nervous. 

“I’m not mad,” she said in an effort to relax him. “It just would have been a helpful thing to know.” 

“I’m sorry, it just happened this morning.” He grinned sheepishly. “He noticed my good mood, and I couldn’t help but to tell him what I was so excited about.” 

“So you’re excited about our date tonight?” she teased in an attempt to hide the way she felt slightly flustered to hear him say that. 

For just a moment, he looked caught, but quickly moved on to rolling his eyes. “Well, it should be a nice evening, and at the very least a good laugh.” 

“True, I’m sure it’ll feel quite ridiculous doing some of those coupley things.” 

“Yeah, ridiculous…” he said, giving her a strange look. 

“Well, thank you, Mr. Nowack,” she said, raising her voice slightly to ward off any suspicions - though apparently half of the shop already knew. “I’ll go grab a few more bottles of Roses of Italy for the display.” 

She glanced at the clock as she walked back to the workroom. Only nine hours to go! 

\--- 

Georg wasn’t sure if he had ever experienced a day that went more slowly. There was a somewhat steady stream of customers, but every time he looked at his watch it seemed that only a few minutes had passed. It wasn’t like he was excited to _see_ Amalia, he had been seeing and interacting with her all day, but he was excited to drop the act. Or, drop one act and replace it with another? Pretending to be uninterested in her seemed like a much greater leap than pretending to be engaged to her, somehow. 

Closing time did eventually come, and they were able to set out. As they walked down the street from Maraczek’s, Amalia slipped her arm around his, causing him to start. He knew that it was all part of the plan, but they weren’t even around the block yet. 

“We’re still awfully close to the shop…” he said, pulling his arm away and looking at her with uncertainty. 

“Yes, but everyone knows now, so I don’t see the point in waiting until we’ve successfully snuck around the corner,” she said as if it was obvious. 

“Excuse me, did you say now that _everyone_ knows? We’ve only told Ladislav and Ilona.” 

“Either they can’t keep a secret, or we’re not as sneaky as we thought. Mr. Kodaly, charming as always, winked after he wished us a good night - I’m surprised you didn’t see it. And I overheard Arpad asking Mr. Sipos how we were supposed to pretend to be in love when we hardly even like each other,” she said, laughing. “I’m assuming Mr. Maraczek is the only one who hasn’t picked up on it.” 

“So much for discretion. Well, in that case, my dear, shall we?” he said, offering his arm. 

They walked to the cafe, chatting about the events of the day, and Georg felt both nerves and contentment. Somehow, things just felt better with Amalia on his arm, which was disconcerting. Reminding himself that these feelings were temporary and inconsequential, he pulled her closer. 

When they arrived, Amalia let out a small gasp. 

“Georg,” she said, smacking him lightly. “You didn’t tell me they had a dance floor here.” 

“Oh, well, we don’t have to…” he said. He hadn’t realized it either, or he might have chosen a different restaurant. 

“Good evening, sir, madam, do you have a reservation?” asked the host, interrupting them. 

“Yes, two for Nowack,” Georg replied. 

“Right this way.” The man led them to a table in a secluded corner - though, as he looked around, he noticed that somehow _every_ table appeared to be in a secluded corner. 

“Wow,” he whispered. “It’s very, uh, intimate here.” 

“It’s so charming!” she said, grinning. 

\---- 

Once they had ordered their wine and the waiter left, a slightly awkward silence fell over them. 

“So…” Georg said. “What now?” 

“What do mean, what now?” Amalia asked, surprised. “I thought we were pretty clear on the plan.” 

“We were, but...now that we’re here, I’m not sure how this is any different than how we’ve been,” he said. 

“It’s really not that different, we just need to act a little more romantic, I suppose. And apparently we can learn some things from the couples near us….” she said, eyeing the next table where a couple was holding hands and gazing intently at each other. 

Georg saw where she was looking and laughed. He placed his hand over hers and looked at her, his gaze similar to the lovers at the other table except for the hint of humor underneath. “Like this, my dear?” 

Amalia rolled her eyes before settling into proper “gazing” position. 

“Y-yes,” she said, faltering as the humor of the situation seemed to fall away. He really seemed to have this gazing business down. “Like that.” 

He smiled warmly at her and it felt like her heart had skipped a beat. As she looked at him, she wondered for the hundredth time that week why she had ever thought him so awful, how she could have missed what a wonderful man he really was… 

The waiter arrived with their wine, pouring it as discreetly as possible but still breaking the moment. Amalia smiled at Georg, pulling her hand away to adjust her hair. 

“Thank you,” she said the waiter, who nodded and walked away. 

“We should probably take a look at the menu,” Georg said, biting his lip. 

“Good idea, dear,” she said. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. 

He looked down at his menu, but she saw one corner of his mouth quirking up in a small smile. As they studied the menu options, his leg brushed against hers, and she found herself scooting closer to him. 

When the waiter returned to take their order, Georg ordered for them both and Amalia felt a slight thrill at hearing him call her his fiancée. She knew that it was the cover, but somehow it was still exciting. If it felt that way to hear _Georg_ say it, she couldn’t imagine what it’d be like someday when it was real. 

As they waited for their food, they got absorbed in a discussion on their favorite Chopin concertos. 

“Actually,” Georg said. “The symphony will be performing some Chopin in a couple of weeks, would you like to go?” 

“I’d love to!” she said, before she remembered that tomorrow was their last day as a ‘couple.’ “Only...our arrangement ends tomorrow.” 

Amalia thought she saw a flash of disappoint across his face. 

“Oh, well, I thought - I thought that we…” he trailed off. 

“You thought that we…?” Her heart had begun beating faster. Did he think that they might continue? Did she _want_ him to think that? 

“I thought we’d continue to be friends,” he said, looking hurt. “Is that not the case?” 

“Oh! No! I mean, of course we’ll still be friends,” she said, eager to reassure him. She felt slightly disappointed in his response, but she would have to think about that later. “In that case, yes, Georg, I would like very much to attend the symphony with you.” 

His face lit up. “Wonderful!” 

\--- 

Conversation flowed throughout the meal, and the little “romantic” moments they aimed to practice started to become second nature. By the time they had finished, they were side by side, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the couples that had taken to the dance floor. 

“This is nice,” Amalia said absently. 

“Mm,” he agreed. He’d never been a particularly physical person with others, but he enjoyed having her snuggled up to him. 

“Georg, dear,” she said, lifting her head to look at him. “Can we go dance?” 

“Um…” he said, hoping she’d see his pleading look and take pity on him. “I don’t really dance. Look at those people out there, they all know what they’re doing. I’d probably step on your feet and look like an idiot.” 

“We don’t have to dance like that. We could even just sway. Please, Georg?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at him. 

He narrowed his eyes. “Amalia, are you attempting to use your feminine wiles on me?” 

“Yes, I am, is it working?” she said with a grin. 

“Fine. It’s your feet at risk.” He stood up, offering his hand. “Amalia, may I have this dance?” 

“Yes,” she said, taking his hand and dragging him to the little dance floor. 

Georg tried to subdue the growing panic as they stood amongst the dancing couples. “Okay, now what?” 

“Now, you put your hands on my hips,” she said, a slight blush forming on her cheeks. He wondered if images of their kiss were coming to her mind as well as he placed his hands as instructed. She slipped her arms around his neck. “And I put mine here, and we dance.” 

She began stepping to the side, just a little, and he followed her lead. Between his fear of making a fool of himself and how it felt to have her arms wrapped around him, he had never been more aware of his body. They swayed, moving in a small circle. 

“There,” she said, smiling up at him. “This isn’t so bad, is it?” 

“No,” he said, chuckling. “It’s definitely tolerable. Why do you always have to be right?” 

“I don’t have to be,” she said teasingly. “When I’m with you, I just am.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence, and she rested her head against his shoulder as they danced, bringing them a little closer to each other. He realized he could recognize the smell of her shampoo - it had always been one of his favorites in the shop. He closed his eyes, breathing her in and struggling to remind himself that this wasn’t real. 

\--- 

After dinner, Georg walked Amalia home. 

“Thank you for the lovely evening, Georg,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “And for all you’re doing for me. I really, really appreciate it.” 

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, grinning at her. “Who would have thought I’d be saying that someday?” 

She laughed. “It really is remarkable how far we’ve come in such a short time.” 

“Yeah…” he said. “Funny how things work.” 

When they arrived at her apartment, they paused outside of her door. 

“Well, good night, Amalia,” he said, looking at her nervously for a moment before leaning in. 

Amalia’s breath caught in her throat, both relieved and terrified that he was taking the initiative. He pressed his lips to hers, and she melted. This kiss was different than the ones before - it wasn’t the eager, frenzied first kiss or the quick, little pecks that had occurred since. It was both gentle and firm, calm and passionate, and it ended far too soon. 

“Good night, Georg,” she said in a daze after he had pulled away 

He gave her a small smile in return, and turned to walk home. Amalia watched him as she caught her breath, feeling overwhelmed. 

She walked into her apartment and flopped on her bed, groaning into her pillow. All week, she had been telling herself that the only thing she was feeling for Georg was friendship and maybe a little physical attraction, but she couldn’t really believe herself anymore. Several times tonight, she had caught herself imagining that it was all real. She imagined that those looks he gave her were truly of love, that those words, those touches, were really for her...and every time she imagined it, she felt truly happy until reality came crashing in. 

Somehow, she had let herself fall for Georg, and she had no idea what to do.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day at work, things were so busy that Georg hardly had an opportunity to speak with Amalia. They had made small talk in the morning, but could do little more than smile at each other in passing for the rest of the day. In the moments they were near each other, though, he noticed that they seemed to brush against each other far more often than before. He couldn’t tell if it was him or her that was doing it, but each time her hand grazed his he felt a spark. 

Despite his mind being kept busy with work, he felt vaguely unsettled all day and he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t that he was nervous about the dinner tonight, he actually felt fairly confident that they could act the believable couple in front of the aunt. It could be that he was sad for the charade to be ending, when he felt he ought to be relieved. But it was probably that his mother’s engagement ring was sitting in his pocket. 

He had realized last night that they hadn’t gotten a fake engagement ring for Amalia, and that her aunt might notice that little error. So when he got home, he went straight to the small box where he kept his remaining keepsakes from his parents and found his mother’s ring. It was a little tarnished, but mostly around the inside of the band. 

Now, the ring felt absurdly heavy in his pocket. He wasn’t _actually_ proposing to Amalia, he had no reason to worry, but it still felt significant. It was mother’s ring, after all, and the fact that there hadn’t been a moment all day to tell Amalia about it made it feel like a secret. He was sure the knot in his stomach would disappear once he talked to her about it. 

Eventually, the end of the day came and Georg finally had an opportunity to talk to Amalia. 

They spent longer than usual gathering their belongings after work, letting their coworkers leave first, despite the fact that they all knew. After Ilona - who gave them each a long, significant look on her way out - left, Georg turned to Amalia, pulling the ring box out of his pocket. 

\--- 

Amalia was putting on her jacket when Georg turned to her, looking oddly serious. 

“Amalia, I wanted to give you something...” he said, opening a small box that contained the most beautiful ring she had ever seen - a delicate gold band with a diamond encrusted heart. 

She gasped, her mind and heart racing. 

“I realized last night that we never got you a fake engagement ring,” he said quickly, likely able to see the panic on her face. “So, I got this.” 

“That is no fake ring,” she said breathlessly, unable to believe he had gotten such a beautiful ring. “Georg, you really shouldn’t have, I mean, how…” 

“Oh! No! I didn’t _buy_ this,” he said, realizing her implication. “It was my mother’s, so I already had it.” 

“In that case I _really_ can’t, it must be very special to you…” she said, looking up at him. 

“It is, but I trust you to be careful. After all, it’s only for a night. You should at least try it on,” he said, removing the ring from the box and sliding it onto her finger. “Look, it even fits perfectly.” 

He grinned at her and she felt weak in the knees. It _did_ fit perfectly. 

“Georg, are you sure….” she said, still looking at the ring on her finger. 

“I’m positive,” he said. “Now, your aunt should be here with a cab anytime now, right?” 

A horn honked outside the shop before Amalia could answer. That had to be Aunt Mitzi. 

As they walked out of Maraczek’s, she felt overwhelmed by tension and nerves. She kept telling herself that it would all go fine. As if she had voiced that thought, Georg wrapped an arm around her shoulder, hugging her close. 

“It’ll be great,” he whispered, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head. 

“I know,” she said, leaning into the embrace and relaxing a little. 

The cab door opened, and Aunt Mitzi stepped out. 

“Amalia! Darling! It’s so wonderful to see you!” she said as she stepped towards them. Georg’s hold on Amalia loosened, allowing Mitzi to give her a suffocating hug. “And who is this strapping young man?” 

“This is my fiancé,” she said, unconsciously fiddling with the band on her finger. “Georg Nowack, meet my aunt, Mitzi Szabo.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Szabo,” he said, kissing her hand. Amalia smirked at the charm Georg was putting on - he seemed to have a good read on Aunt Mitzi already. 

“And you, Georg. But please, call me Mitzi, you’re family now,” she said with a grin. She turned to Amalia. “He seems like a keeper already.” 

“I certainly think so,” Amalia said, smiling at Georg. 

\--- 

By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Georg truly understood why Amalia was willing to go to such lengths to fool her aunt. Mitzi was a lot to handle. Well meaning, but _a lot_. Even her small talk felt exhausting. As they sat down at the dinner table, Georg and Amalia on one side and Mitzi on the other, the talk had turned towards his engagement with Amalia - a daunting prospect, but at least something he was prepared for. 

“So, how does it feel to be engaged?” she asked. 

“What a silly question, Mitzi,” Amalia said, laughing. “Why it’s wonderful, of course.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than in the time since we got engaged,” he said, realizing that in a way it was true. 

“Me either,” she said quietly, looking at him with such warmth he almost believed her. 

“Oh, and the ring!” Mitzi said. “It looks beautiful, can I see it?” 

Amalia glanced at Georg, her look asking for confirmation. He nodded, and she removed the ring and handed it to Mitzi. 

“Wow,” she said, studying the ring carefully. “It is stunning, but I can’t quite make out the inscription inside the band…” 

Georg was suddenly seized with panic, afraid that his bringing that ring may have derailed things - he had no idea what the inscription said. 

“Oh, it’s -” he started, unsure of how he was going to finish. 

“Dear…” Mitzi said, squinting as she read. “Dearest?” 

Amalia shot a shocked look at Georg, who felt dumbfounded. 

“That…” Amalia said slowly. “That’s what we call each other…” 

“Well, it’s lovely, but I’d go back to wherever you got it and have that redone,” she said, handing the ring back to Amalia. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to powder my nose.” 

Georg waited until he was sure Mitzi was far enough away not to hear before turning to Amalia. She was looking at him with confusion and he realized with a jolt that she might think he did that intentionally, that he was reading too far into their relationship. 

“Amalia, I had no idea there was even an inscription,” he said. “I’m as surprised as you are.” 

She looked at him intently for a moment, her expression unreadable, before sighing. 

“It really does say dearest,” she said, studying the inscription on the ring. “What are the chances?” 

“It’s very strange. Hopefully there are no more big surprises tonight,” he said, placing his hand over hers on the table. 

\--- 

When Aunt Mitzi returned, she seemed to have forgotten about her line of questioning for them and told stories instead. Amalia had heard all of these at least ten times before, so she entertained herself by watching Georg’s reactions - which were more often about the storyteller than the story. She felt an immense affection for him as she watched him be so kind and responsive to her rather abrasive aunt. 

“Sounds like it was quite an adventure,” Georg said, laughing as Mitzi finished her tale. 

“I’ve gotten carried away talking about myself,” Mitzi said. “We should get back to you.” 

Amalia tensed, preparing herself for another interrogation - it was unlikely that Mitzi would get off track twice. Georg could apparently read her nerves, as he reached her for hand under the table and began stroking small circles on the back of it with his thumb. She felt herself relax, at least a little. 

“Yes?” Amalia said. 

“Let’s start from the beginning. How did you two meet?” Mitzi asked. 

“Well, as you know, we work together,” Georg started, and she smiled at him, glad he was taking the lead. “And let me tell you, at first, I couldn’t _stand_ her. I thought she was the most insufferable girl I had ever laid eyes on.” 

“The feeling was mutual,” she said, laughing at his candor. 

“But then, with time, I realized that the only reason I couldn’t stand her was that I had started falling for her the moment she walked in the door. She was beautiful, bold, and so smart. I never stood a chance,” he said, looking at her with so much tenderness it made her heart ache, she wanted so badly for his words to be true. He cleared his throat and looked back to Aunt Mitzi. “It just took me awhile to realize that.” 

“And what about you Amalia?” Aunt Mitzi asked. “Did you also secretly love him from the start?” 

“Oh, I don’t think so…” she said, trying to pull herself together. She would have to give Georg kudos on his acting skills when this was all done. 

“So when was it, dearest?” he said, dramatically batting his eyelashes at her so she had to stifle a laugh. 

“Well, I was immediately attracted to him, as much as I would have denied it, but I can’t say when I started falling for him. Somewhere in the middle of everything, I suppose. He was so darn cute when he was losing an argument,” she said, pinching his cheek. 

“Losing an argument?” he said, acting offended. “I don’t recall losing any in those early days…since then, well, that’s a different story.” 

“Sounds like you’ve accepted your fate, Georg,” Aunt Mitzi said with a chuckle. “And that fire is a good thing, keeps a healthy sex life going.” 

Georg choked on his drink and pulled his hand away from Amalia’s more quickly than she’s ever seen him move, while Amalia just stared in horror at her aunt. 

“Aunt Mitzi!” 

“Amalia, darling, don’t worry. I’m a modern woman, I understand couples these days don’t wait for marriage,” she said calmly. 

“No - we - you don’t - _we_ don’t - “ Georg stammered. 

“Are you telling me you two haven’t had sex?” she said, surprised. “You can hardly keep your hands off each other, I just assumed.” 

Amalia felt the heat rise into her cheeks. 

“You assumed wrong, Aunt Mitzi,” she said, risking a glance at Georg, whose face was as red and she imagined her own to be. “Georg is a gentleman, and we…” 

“I understand,” Aunt Mitzi said. “But may I advise you two to talk about that, sooner than later, since clearly it’s an issue.” 

“I’ll take it under advisement,” she said through a strained smile. 

“I still stand by my point, though, you’ll appreciate that fire later on,” she said, chuckling. “Anyway, on to another topic, Georg, how did you pop the question?” 

\--- 

Georg hardly heard the question. He was still reeling from the direction the conversation had taken - who asked that sort of thing, honestly? Of all the possible situations he had mentally prepared himself for, that was not one of them. 

“Um, what?” he responded, trying to return his focus to the plan. 

“How did you ask Amalia to marry you?” Mitzi asked again, smiling pleasantly. 

“Oh, well…it was a spur of the moment kind of thing, honestly. I knew I wanted to ask her, I had taken to carrying the ring around with me, but I couldn’t figure out the right way to do it. And then we were at dinner one evening, in the middle of a discussion on the French Romantics, and I realized just couldn’t wait any longer. She was talking about Flaubert, I believe,” he said, fondly recalling one of their discussions last night. “She was so beautiful, so passionate…” 

He didn’t realize he had stopped until he felt Amalia’s hand touch his arm. He turned to her, and was awed by the intensity of her gaze. 

“Georg,” she said quietly. “Do go on, please.” 

“I - well, I - “ he said. Unable to speak while looking at Amalia, he turned back to Mitzi. “I realized that I couldn’t imagine my life without her and that there was no time like the present. So I got down on one knee and asked her to be my wife.” 

“You tell that story quite beautifully, dear,” Amalia said, turning away from him and grabbing her drink. 

“Indeed,” said Aunt Mitzi. “It’s easy to see how very in love the two of you are.” 

“It’s hard to hide,” she said, taking another drink. 

\--- 

Thankfully, after a few more questions, the conversation did not return to them for the rest of the evening. Amalia was having more and more difficulty separating their cover story from reality, and each time that they became the topic of discussion, it got harder. Even so, she decided to let her guard down and just enjoy her time with Georg, as limited as it was (romantically speaking). After tonight, she would have to figure out how to move forward from the feelings she’d developed. Right now, though, she was allowed to be in love with Georg Nowack. 

She was allowed to lean into him, to kiss his cheek, to rest her head on his shoulder, to hold his hand, to show love through every little action. And so, she did. And he did, as well, playing his part to perfection. She relished the sensation of his arm around her shoulder, his hand brushing against her face as he pushed a loose hair behind her ear, his fingers tracing circles on her arm, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her out of the restaurant. 

They walked outside and waited for Mitzi’s cab to arrive. 

“Thank you for dinner, Aunt Mitzi,” Amalia said as she snuggled closer to Georg, his arm draped over her shoulders. 

“Yes, thank you,” Georg said. “It was wonderful getting to know more of Amalia’s family.” 

“Soon to be your family!” Mitzi said with a laugh. “You are both so welcome. Now, will you two be riding with me?” 

“No,” Georg said, looking at Amalia. “I think I’m going to walk home, would you like to join me?” 

“I’d like that,” she said, wondering if it would all end the moment the Mitzi’s cab drove away. Knowing that it would be her last chance, she turned her head towards him and kissed him briefly. “Thank you, dear, for coming to dinner. I love you.” 

She could feel Georg tense at her words, before he replied. “I - I love you too, Amalia.” 

He looked down at her after he said it, and she wished she could believe him. 

\--- 

Georg was going crazy. He told himself that the feelings would pass when it was all over, but they only seemed to intensify as they neared the end, and Amalia certainly wasn’t helping things. She kept giving him looks that stole his breath away, she stayed close to him all evening, and then that ‘I love you’? He had to admit that it wasn’t an act when he said it back. 

After they said goodbye to Aunt Mitzi, they began walking to Amalia’s apartment. The show was over, but he kept his arm around her, and she made no complaint. 

“I meant what I said, Georg,” she said, and he froze. “I’m very grateful to you for what you did tonight, what you’ve done for the last week.” 

Of course she had been referring to the thanks. 

“You’re welcome, I was glad to do it,” he said, willing himself to start walking again. 

“No, really, you...you did an amazing job putting up with Aunt Mitzi, putting up with me…” she said. 

“There was nothing to put up with when it came to you,” he said. “Really. Aunt Mitzi, though... “ 

She laughed. “You’re a fine actor, Mr. Nowack, truly convincing.” 

“I am serious, though. You should know that I never exaggerated about you. I’m very glad to know you, and I really hope we remain friends,” he said, telling himself friendship would be enough. 

“Friends…” she said, sliding out from underneath his arm. “I hope so too.” 

They walked the rest of the way to her apartment in silence. He yearned to reach out to her, to at least grab her hand, but knew he couldn’t. Not anymore. 

When they arrived, they stood outside her door and the silence continued. Was it really only 24 hours ago that they were in the same spot but an entirely different position? 

“Good night, Georg,” she said, and before he knew it she had kissed him on the cheek and was hugging him. “Thank you again.” 

“Good night, Amalia,” he said, wrapping his arms around her in return. 

They stood that way for a moment, before Amalia pulled away. She waved at him and walked inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, [this is the ring](http://amaliabalash.tumblr.com/post/148909883747/i-found-this-while-googling-era-appropriate) I had in mind that I found while Googling Hungarian engagement rings.


	7. Chapter 7

Amalia woke up late the next day. Somehow, she had managed to fall asleep amidst the storm of feelings, but now it was morning and they were back in full swing. 

She had no doubt left in her mind that she was in love with Georg, and she was hating every minute of it. How could she have been so stupid? She knew it was all for show, and yet everything about it had felt so _right_ that she just...let herself believe it. And now she was stuck with feelings for that infuriating, kind, wonderful man who had made it quite clear that he only wanted friendship from her. 

And as if that weren’t bad enough, there was also the matter of Dear Friend. She had truly believed herself in love with him, and she felt no less fondness when she thought of him, but it seemed impossible to love two people at once. Her feelings for Georg were certainly more intense at the moment, but with time maybe they would pass and she could love Dear Friend even more. Or even better, she’d find out that Georg actually _is_ Dear Friend. 

“There’s no point in wishing for the impossible,” she said to herself as she got out of bed. 

She slogged through her morning routine, trying to determine the best way to move on. Sitting down with a cup of coffee, she stared absently at the ring on her finger for a few moments before it occurred to her that it had no business being there. She had meant to give it back last night, but apparently forgot. 

For a moment, she considered just waiting until they were back at work to return the ring - it would give her a couple of days to recover, so to speak, and it wouldn’t force any extra interactions that may be painful. But it wasn’t fair to Georg for her to wait. It had belonged to his mother, it was too precious for her to delay with. 

She had to see him today. 

\--- 

In retrospect, Georg had done quite an impressive job of convincing himself he had no real feelings for Amalia, and he wished he was still able to do it today. 

He had never felt so strongly for a person as he felt for her. Last night when he talked about falling for her from the moment she walked into Maraczek’s, he realized that it was true. She had driven him crazy from the start because liked her so much - and because she brought out his sense of competition, but still. Whether hating her or loving her, he had rarely stopped thinking about her in the months since she entered his life. At least with hating her, he didn’t have the pain. But now, he’d have to deal with loving her while she felt nothing but friendship for him. 

And what about Dear Friend? As the week with Amalia had progressed, he had hardly thought of the woman he had believed himself to be in love with...he really _was_ in love with. Could all of that have changed so much in a week’s time? Maybe if he just read her letters, he would remember how much he cared for her and she for him. Eventually, he could get over the feelings for Amalia and build up what he had with Dear Friend. 

He pulled out his box of letters and picked one up. As he read, he tried to go back to the vague, faceless image he once had for Dear Friend - but now all he saw was Amalia. He could imagine her so clearly saying all of the things in the letters, down to the inflections. He buried his face in his hands and groaned - this wasn’t working. 

A knock at the door startled him. 

“Mr. Nowack - Georg, it’s Amalia,” she called through the door. “I need to speak with you.” 

His heart raced and, despite assuring himself that it was merely a friendly call, he couldn’t help but hope. Maybe, just maybe, she felt the same. He took a breath to try and compose himself before opening the door. 

“Amalia!” he said, putting on a cheerful smile to try and hide his nerves. “What a happy surprise, do you want to come in?” 

She looked into his apartment wearily before shaking her head. 

“No, I can’t, I just needed to return this to you,” she said, turning the band of the ring around her finger. 

“Oh,” he said, hoping she couldn’t hear how disappointed he was. “Well, thank you.” 

\--- 

Amalia knew that all she had left to do was just remove the ring and hand it back to him, it was as simple as that. Yet she stood there, turning the band around and around but not taking it off. 

“Actually, maybe I will come in,” she said, letting go of the band. 

Georg smiled weakly at her and opened the door wider. She walked in, unsure of what she was doing. 

“I like you, Georg,” she said, feeling compelled to say something. “I want to continue being your friend, but everything feels a little strange right now.” 

“I agree wholeheartedly,” he said with an awkward laugh. 

“I think I need a little time to get my head on straight, but I know that eventually we’ll find our rhythm,” she said. Maybe if she told him that, she would start to believe it. “So...that’s all, really.” 

She removed the ring and handed it to him. He stood, staring at her with an unreadable expression, making it that much harder. She sighed and walked towards the door, stopping when a something on the table caught her eye. There was a box of letters sitting there - _her_ letters. 

“Dear Friend,” she whispered, reaching for one of them. 

\--- 

Georg felt as if his heart skipped a beat when he heard what she said, before he realized with a pang that she was likely just reading the name on the envelope. 

“Oh, those are just letters from a, um, a penpal,” he said. He couldn’t bring himself to explain who Dear Friend really was. 

Amalia turned to him, tears brimming in her eyes. 

“I know,” she said. 

Before he could question what she meant, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and was kissing him. For a moment he tried to resist it, he couldn’t handle doing this unless she really meant it, but it wasn’t long before he was melting into the kiss. His hands ended up in her hair, pulling her closer, and she responded enthusiastically. 

“I love you,” she said quietly, resting her forehead against his after they broke apart. “My dear friend, I love you so much.” 

He pulled away and looked at her, unable to believe what he had just heard. “Dear friend?” 

She nodded, a small, terrified smile on her face, and Georg felt like his heart was going to burst. 

“I can’t believe it, I _wanted_ it to be you, Amalia, but I couldn’t…” he said, grinning at her. “I love you.” 

He pulled her close, kissing her again. 

\--- 

Amalia was deliriously happy. She hadn’t been crazy, it hadn’t been wishful thinking - Georg was Dear Friend, and he loved her. 

“I’m so glad it was you,” she said as she snuggled next to him on the couch. “I hated myself for falling for you while still loving Dear Friend.” 

“I felt the exact same way,” he said with a laugh. “I had imagined my life with Dear Friend for some time, imagining the little domestic things we’d share, but without ever really picturing a face, and then one day it was suddenly your face. It seemed so natural, but I felt so bad.” 

She turned to him, surprised to hear that he had thought about their future, even before he knew it was _their_ future. 

“You thought about our life together?” she asked. 

“All the time,” he said, looking nervous. 

“I did too,” she said as she broke into a grin. 

He looked at her for a moment, uncertainty on his face, before sitting up. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the ring she had returned to him only an hour before, and held her hand. 

“Amalia, I feel like this is both too soon and long overdue, and I’m sorry about that. But I’ve loved you for too long to continue waiting, even if I didn’t know it at the time,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” 

“Yes!” she said the moment he finished speaking. She had hardly been able to resist answering before he had even asked the question. “I would love nothing more.” 

He slid the ring on her finger and she thought it looked even more beautiful than before. 

\--- 

When they got to work Monday morning, they announced their engagement to their coworkers. No one but Mr. Maraczek was surprised and, after a hearty round of congratulations, Ilona could be seen collecting her bet winnings from every other person in the shop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me at [amaliabalash.tumblr.com](http://amaliabalash.tumblr.com) :)


End file.
